Birthday Hassle
by Kracken l.w
Summary: What does the Eleventh division do to celebrate their Captain's bithday? Besides drinking, I mean. Now, what happens when the rest of the Soul Reapers get involved? Rated for swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**Birthday Hassle**

_**By Kracken l.w.**_

Disclaimer: **I DON'T OWN IT YOU BLOODTHIRSTY BASTARDS!!!! **(throws rocks at lawyers)

The normally peaceful atmosphere of the Court of Pure Souls was shattered by shouts, the clangor of blades, and a grudging grunt as the dull side of a sword bounced off the target's ribcage. "32!" The cry went out over the command receiver waves. It was November 19th, and Zaraki's once a decade birthday harassment had been under way for two hours.

The Start (8 AM): Zaraki Kenpachi stood by the main gates of the eleventh division compound and twitched. Across the way, third seat Madarame Ikkaku was giving a quick review of the rules to what was fast becoming one of the Captain's biggest headaches.

"All right you sorry sons o' bitches! Listen up, 'Cause I'm only goin' through this once!

Rule #1. Strike with the flat of the blade only! Rule # 2. Taicho's got 'is reiatsu hauled in as far as it'll go; but if you don't wanna chance it, feel free to grab 'is arms or try an' hold 'im down while someone else goes for a hit. Anyone helping out gets partial credit. Rule #3. No arguing' with the Ref! Any calls she makes are final.

As for Taicho, he's got to keep his reiatsu in 'til either we reach the goal or he makes it to the safe zone. He can't strike back, unless you try to cut him. Then he can lop your fuckin' arms off if he feels like it. He _can _dodge, block, or run if he wants to. If we get all the hits, Taicho gets none of his presents 'till next year an' no alcohol for a week." Here Zaraki growled something about broken beer bottles sensitive areas of the body that even made Ikkaku wince. "After 6, if he can make it to th' chow hall without us getting' 'em all, he's safe. Got it? Then let's get 'im! 282 hits to go!"

Zaraki planted himself firmly in front of the gates and watched them come on. He had an hour until they opened; and with his sake at risk, he'd be damned if he would let these miserable puppies drive him away from them.

Back to the present (10:38 AM): He skidded around a corner and slid to a halt. Waiting for him a short way down the passage was a grinning Yumichika and three rookies. "Che, sneaky fuckin' fruitcake…" Yumi's grin, impossibly, only got wider. "As we planned, gentlemen?" Two of them dove for his arms as the fifth seat and their stronger companion drew swords. The barest hint of his trademark psychotic smile slid across thin lips as, with a contented little chuckle, he brought his arms up; dragging the rookies into the path of the incoming swords. Just when Yumi, who'd been expecting this and jumped to clear the blockage, thought he was going to get in his eighth hit of the day, Zaraki somehow managed to hook the third boy through the belt with his sword and took the whole group over backwards. Yumi managed to divert the blow and then dodged as all three stunned newbies were thrown at him en masse. His attention wavered for a moment as Ikkaku, two other ranking officers and… Renji? Came around the same corner as the captain had. So it was only Yachiru's giggle of delight that warned him in time to brace himself as Zaraki's hand, closely followed by all 200 odd pounds of his weight, landed on his head. His captain had just taken the opportunity to get up on the roof and temporarily disable and opponent at the same time; the big evil bastard. Now he wouldn't be able to go after him until he fixed his hair! He rounded on his division mate and their former companion, demanding an explanation. Zaraki took off along the rooftops towards twelfth division, hoping to get a breather in the one place none of them would dare to follow him.

_Interlude for an explanation: While pursuing Zaraki down a hallway on the edge of Tenth, Ikkaku and Co. nearly ran down Hitsugaya, Matsumoto, and Renji. Hitsugaya ordered them to explain and this is what Renji and Ikkaku told him. Roughly forty years ago, not too long after Renji joined the eleventh, another new recruit who had died not long before that introduced the concept of "Birthday Smackins". One blow for each year of life, and the recipient is not allowed to strike back. It was the tradition among soul reapers to celebrate every decade instead of once a year; starting the year you joined the ranks. As it happened, Zaraki's 242nd birthday was a little over a week away. So it really wasn't surprising that the first words out of Ikkaku's mouth were "Oh sure, I can just _see _Taicho putting up with _that_. Things went downhill from there. In all honesty the captain hadn't had many objections, besides not being able to strike back and having to hold in his reiatsu. That is, until he read the fine print and found the threat to his alcohol. Too bad he'd already signed it. That first year it was limited to their dojo, but it had quickly become apparent that this made it too easy for Kenpachi to hole up in a corner and hold them all off until it was time to make his dash for the door. The next year it was limited to the main office building, and the year after that, it was the whole compound. The results were about the same. The highest they'd ever gotten was one hundred and ten hits, and the total was only going up. Either they needed more people, or they needed to get Kenpachi off of familiar ground. Hence this year's shift to using the whole court. It was at this point that Renji came up with a plan that was going to make his former captain's life very…interesting, for the next eight hours. "Why don't we let the rest of the captains and their lieutenants join in? That should give us a much better chance, right?" Ikkaku ran over the rules in his head and found nothing saying they couldn't… "I like it. You wanna play, Hitsugaya Taicho?" The shortest captain in the gotai thirteen cracked a smile full of such malevolent mischief that Ikkaku almost called the whole thing off right there. "I'll spread the word." Hitsugaya vanished as Matsumoto went to find Yachiru and watch._

Meanwhile, in the twelfth division court yard: "What the hell!" Zaraki blocked a number of high speed punches and then dodged a kick aimed at his shins. He'd actually overheard the conversation with Hitsugaya and expected some higher level opponents; but this was the _last _person he'd expected to get involved. Kurosutchi Nemu executed a perfect back flip and came at him again. Three minutes later the call went out. "Hits # 33 and 34 go to Nemmie-chan!" Zaraki hightailed it for the opposite side of the court. It was eleven o'clock in the morning, and he had another seven hours of pursuit to go. Better to hide around fifth's office than to stick around here. True, everyone would be after him again, but at least there were no commanding officers there to join the pursuit.

:It's amazing how fast such a big man can reverse his momentum,: Unohana thought as she watched Zaraki Taicho about face in mid stride and dodge around a corner. Seeing as this was his usual reaction to running into her when the overdue notice for his yearly check up had just been sent out, she really didn't think anything of it. Right up until Hitsugaya appeared beside her to give her the news. Since she was well known among the rank and file for her "motherly" disposition, Hitsugaya wasn't surprised to learn that she already knew all about this odd little tradition; and declined in favor of joining Ukitake in setting up a birthday party for their hunted and harried compatriot. After all, her turn to hunt him up was a bare two days away, and she figured he would shortly have all he could do to avoid getting the rest of his smacks in one go. The passage he had ducked down cut right across the tip of third division into second; and Soi Fong was sure to know all about it by now.

End Chp.1

(A/n: I was originally going to do this all in one piece, but I'm not going to have the time. I know it's not very funny at the moment, but please bear with me. If you still don't like it after that? Flames are fine as long as they are original. Constructive criticism is welcome.)

(A/n: For those who think an original flame is "this sucks" or "this is stupid" or any variations thereof…Bite me.)


	2. Hassle 2: Flight of the Bumble Bee

Flight of the Bumble Bee

_by Kracken l. w._

Disclaimer: I said, _I don't own it_. Clear enough for you?

Zaraki knew he was in trouble when a white, black, and orange blur flashed out of the shadows and proceeded to kick him two or three times in the shins before he could even _think _about getting his blade up to block. Moving on instinct as the last one made contact, he just barely got his sheathed weapon around in time to block a fourth kick aimed right at the seat of his pants. "Mornin' Short Stuff." He grinned at the scowling, diminutive Captain of the second division. She frowned at the slur, and at the sword beneath her foot. Then she smiled at him and ran right up it to kick him in the head. "Hits 35 to 39 go to Grouchy Ninja Lady!"

Despite his size, no one was ever going to call him slow; his own formidable speed was doing him no good whatsoever against the humming bird aerodynamics and caffeinated squirrel speed of Soi Fong. The hits were coming in thick and fast, and he was only able to block or dodge about half of them. For the first time that day, he could envision a whole week without a single drop of his precious sake stretching out before him like a parched and barren wasteland. "No way in HELL." He growled; just as hit number 79 was declared by the Ref. Kenpachi then reluctantly made recourse to an activity he truly detested. He began _thinking_ of a way out. He'd discarded three ideas and was working on a fourth when he felt someone else's blood lust approaching from behind. Soi Fong was taken utterly aback when, as her foot came up in kick aimed at his chin, he grabbed her ankle and threw her at the far wall. She was even more shocked, after bouncing off it, to meet Omaeda flying towards her. Caught by surprise in mid-air, even the feared Commander of the Corrections Corps had no chance to dodge. Bad as it was for Omaeda that he never even managed to land a hit on Zaraki, falling on one's Captain in that -particular- position would have made any _sensible _person conclude that the fates hated them and they should go spend the rest of their lives in a very deep hole. Instead of doing the sensible thing, Omaeda opened his big mouth and said "What? It's not like you have anything there to begin with!"

As screams of agony and banshee shrieks of rage rent the air behind him, the Captain of the Eleventh fought the urge to laugh and took off down yet another corridor.

Zaraki thought his luck had finally turned for the better when he realized his escape route led right through the offices at the center of the Court. Right now every one seemed to have scattered; and it _should _be child's play to reach his favorite alcove on Eleventh division's grounds. A recess in the wall where a door had been sealed off, it would only allow them to come at him from one direction. Add in the fact that it was a straight fifty yard dash from it to the company mess hall, and you had an ideal place to hide. (The _last_ thing no one outside his division, and precious few inside it, would expect him to do.) However, to reach it he would have to cross through the last of Second's offices and into Eighth's; and then go clockwise through 9th and 10th's. Oh, he _could_ just take to the roof tops, but that would put him in plain sight with no walls to limit the number of attackers. Making his own doors would just irritate the old man; not to mention that if he did that he might just as well carry a big neon sign saying "Zaraki is here à " over his shoulder.

The trouble with thinking, he was reminded a moment later, was that it was difficult to stop once you got started. Of the remaining Captains, only one had joined the game so far. Given the number of hits she'd scored, he had no desire whatsoever to encounter another one. So to say that his joy was less than complete when he came around a corner to see Shunsui waiting for him with both blades drawn would be something of an understatement. He was even less pleased when he felt the temperature drop almost twenty degrees and knew that the shrimpy ice user was _also _somewhere in his immediate vicinity. Directly above him, as a matter of fact. "Fuckin' _Great." _He growled. Kyoraku had the balls to grin at him as he back peddled and blocked Hyorinmaru's first strike, barley avoiding the entangling chain as it moved to trip him. He was very busy fending off three blades at once when Komamura, who had just made up his mind to stay out of it, came upon the scene. Temptation proved to much for the big fox when he saw his opportunity wide open and -begging- for a strike. "Seeing as you are such a pain in mine…" He murmured, and brought the flat of his blade around to land with a tremendous crack square on Kenpachi's backside. The fearsome "Demon" of the eleventh division jumped three feet straight up, screamed "Son of a Bitch!" and whirled around with every intention of disemboweling whoever did it. Kyoraku and Hitsugaya immediately hit him twice each; and Zaraki abandoned all thoughts of revenge and fled over the wall and down the next passage. Eighty-four hits down, one hundred and ninety-eight to go…


	3. Hassle 3: Dog Pile!

Birthday Hassle

By Kracken l. w.

Disclaimer: Don't own _anything _since Kenpachi killed and ate my plot bunny.

Now in no mood whatsoever to play around, with his rear smarting no end and thoroughly bruised ribs and shins; Zaraki almost , _almost_, felt it would be well worth forfeiting his alcohol for a year (The cost of breaking the rules.) for _one_ offensive strike with the sharp edge of his blade. Mainly because Renji, Kira, Hissagi, and those two idiot third seats from the Thirteenth were waiting for him. Bastards… As if that wasn't bad enough, the sound of rushing feet behind him informed him in no uncertain terms that the two Captains were rapidly catching up to him.

That did it, things were about to get ugly. He planned to do something he'd never before resorted to in these little encounters. He was about to take **FULL** advantage of his third rule. The confident smirks fronting him turned rapidly to uneasy frowns as his smile grew into that well known bloodthirsty baring of teeth… Just as the other Captains came around the corner, Zaraki Kenpachi kicked off from the ground and leapt full speed into the vastly startled group of subordinates. There followed a short, dirty, and above all _painful_ encounter during which the big man caused all comers to doubt their sanity. He twisted himself in ways that shouldn't be humanely possible as he slipped out of the way of strikes coming in from three different directions, drew opponents into indescribable tangles, deadlocked _everyone's_ weapons together at least twice; and finally succeeded in causing Kyoraku and Hitsugaya to trip each other up and take down the whole group. He felt twenty-seven hits was well worth that sight and his only regret was that he didn't have a camera as he let loose a maniacal cackle of laughter and, with an extremely offensive gesture, vanished around another corner.

"Goddamn it!" Renji snarled as they all got untangled and on their feet. "I **HATE** it when he does that!!" This caught the attention of the two Captains immediately. "I take it he's pulled things like this before?" Shunsui asked warily. "Yeah," Renji sighed. "Last time he did it to me was just before I made V.C.. He got tired of people challenging him on his "lack of defensive skills"; and had half the division rush him at once." Renji let out a rueful chuckle. "He had us all on our asses or tripping over our own two feet in five minutes flat." He grinned at the memory and then snorted. "At least this time he wasn't allowed to throw kidney shots." With that parting remark he jogged off after their fleeing target. Shunsui's eyes widened at the thought of that kind of mayhem on such a large scale; and the corner of Hitsugaya's mouth twitched up in amusement at the memory of Zaraki's eloquent parting gesture. The words "Kiss it assholes!" floating back around the corner had really not been necessary.

(A/N: I was _sooo_ tempted to leave it there; but I knew if I did that certain people, _cough_ DFL _cough_ would have a hairy knickers attack. So on with the show.)

Legging it as fast as he could down the hall towards 10th division's offices, he almost fell right over the two women waiting for him at the last intersection before the gate. He hastily leapt back out of reach as they stood their ground; obviously intending to get in a few whacks of their own. What followed was slightly humiliating as far as he was concerned. Isane was tall and sturdy enough to negate most of his advantages of reach and brute strength; and he had almost forgotten Nanao entirely… Until a rather heavy tome flew over Isane's shoulder just he dodged a particularly vicious strike and caught him square in the face. "What the Fuck was that?!" He actually squawked with indignation. "The rule is flat sides only, yes?" The woman actually had the audacity to smirk at him as she adjusted her glasses with one finger tip; cool as you please in the face of an enraged sociopath. His distraction was nearly his downfall as Isane swept his feet out from under him and landed five rapid fire blows to his stomach. Tensing his muscles to spring during the last three hits, he laughed as he heard her soft curse and grinned even harder at the sight of her shaking her knuckles in pain. Then he spun around her startled form and took of at full speed, barely registering three light taps on his ribs as he zoomed past Shunsui's annoyingly, collected, V.C. "Hits number 118 to 120 go to Glasses Lady!"

It was about this time that Matsumoto decided it was time to put her own plan into action. " Be back later Yachiru-chan." The busty Vice-Captain drawled. "I think it's time for a little drink…"

The End. For Now.

A/n: Here's the hits as they stand; for those of you who are interested.

Yumi: 7

Nemu: 2

Ikkaku: 12

Random 11th rank and file: 11

Soi Fong: 34

Komamura: 1

Shunsui: 10

Hitsugaya: 11

Renji: 3

Kira: 2

Hissagi: 3

Kiyone&Sentarou: 2

Oomaeda: 0

Isane: 5

Nanao: 4

Total hits: 120

Total left: 162

All-righty then peeps. I've got something I want opinions on, so reviews are, for once, actually requested. Should there be a reward (besides bragging rights) for whoever gets the most hits, to give them a little incentive? And if so, what do you all think it should be?

Kenpachi: Goddamn! What're you talkin' about? Incentive! This's bad enough as is! You follow up on that and I'll…

Kracken: _points at ceiling fan and waves a large pack of duct tape_

Kenpachi: _mutters_ Evil minded demon thing …


	4. Hassle 4: Nemmiechan, Rnd II

Birthday Hassle

By Kracken l. w.

Disclaimer: DON'T OWN IT !!!!

Zaraki had only just slowed to a walk in the little used thorough-fair behind Tenth division's main office when a soft voice called out from the window. "Hey, Zaraki Taichou. You must be pretty thirsty by now, care for a drink?" Kenpachi, well aware of who had to be addressing him, was careful to put his back up against the opposite wall before answering. "Might be. What's in it for you?" His eye narrowed as he scanned the surrounding roof tops for any flash of white. "And where's the Runt?" Matsumoto chuckled at that and deliberately took a long, satisfying drink of sake; taking careful note of the wistful way his eye tracked the cup. Oh, this would be _so _much easier than chasing him around half the Court! "Taichou?" She closed her eyes in concentration as she sought for that familiar sense of chill. "He seems to be back there," She pointed more or less in the direction he'd just come from. "talking to Nanao and Captain Kyoraku. So you're probably safe for a few minutes, at least. Why not take a break? Come on! Sit down. Have a drink!" She emphasized this little speech by tossing off another cupful and was rewarded when he sighed and dropped down where he stood.

He sat there for a minute, the one visible eye studying her with a faintly cynical air, and then he snorted. "All right, what d' you want? As long as it don't mean losing…" She grinned at him and clapped her hands; then grabbed two cups and a new jar before sliding out of the window to join him. As rude, bloodthirsty, and generally unpleasant as he could be, he wasn't stupid. The grin widened a notch as he tensed up, preparing to rise and flee if she tried anything. "No, nothing like that. Just one free strike a glass. Sound fair to you?" He studied her again without speaking, head tilted to one side; obviously weighing things out before coming to a decision. "Ah, hell. Sure. Why not? But," He held up one abnormally long digit, " you have to tell me if any one else, besides Yachiru," He pointed up to where the "Ref" perched on the wall behind him. "gets too close. Deal?" She didn't even have to think about it. "Deal."

Eight minutes and three glasses later a much refreshed, if slightly more bruised, Zaraki Kenpachi continued down the hall and finally passed into his own territory again. Just in time for an irate Hitsugaya to find his Lieutenant lounging in the office window with a bottle and a packed lunch for company. Before he could so much as inhale the breath to yell she shoved the box into his hands and pointed. "He went that way!" Then she ducked back into the office and vanished.

Relaxing just a tiny bit upon regaining familiar ground; Kenpachi was utterly dismayed to round a corner and find Old Man Yamamoto smiling openly at his horrified expression. "Oh, _shit_!" He tried to dodge down a cross way, only to find that the Captain-General had flash-stepped in front of him. Twelve swift raps on his ribs with a large stick robbed him of the breath to act, and a thirteenth smack on the top of his head made him see stars. "ACK!" He gasped. "Too slow." The old man actually grinned as he turned and walked away. "Happy Birthday, Zaraki." The winded captain of the eleventh growled something uncomplimentary with what little breath was left to him; only to receive three more vigorous slaps to the side of his head, making his bells jingle merrily with each blow, as Yamamoto's second in command followed his Captain down the hall. "Goddamit!" Zaraki snarled. His only answer was a self-satisfied chuckle as the two passed on out of sight.

He was only two corridors away from his hidey hole, and closing fast, when two black clad figures dropped into the corridor in front of him. His head still ringing from his commander's little "love tap", he didn't even try to hide his displeasure. "Iba." He growled. Then his eye shifted over and began to twitch. "Oh, god. Not you again." He heaved a huge sigh of disgust, and a tiny smile crossed Nemu's placid features. "All right, all right. Come on so we can get this the _fuck_ over with." All he wanted right now was to get to his cubby and catch a breather while every one else tried to figure out how to pry him out of there. Iba flashed him a sympathetic grin and gestured to Nemu. "You heard the man. Let's go!" Iba waded straight in, going toe to toe with Zaraki to keep him occupied while Nemu went to work on his relatively unprotected back when ever she could get an opening. Her third consecutive shot to the same area of his ribs his _so beloved _General had just been beating a nice rhythm on prompted the kind of hiss one generally expected from an irritated tiger. Iba, startled by the noise, missed what would have been his seventh hit as Zaraki abruptly muscled him backward right off his feet. Shooting a venomous glare at Nemu that should by rights have set her hair on fire, he blocked a jump kick with crossed forearms; and used the recoil to launch her over the roof towards Twelfth. "Go home, Damn you!" He shot another glare over to where Iba, winded from the fall and from his near hysterical laughter, was trying to pick himself up off the floor. "Asshole." He turned and pushed himself into a weary jog. A glance at the sun told him that it was some time after four, and he couldn't wait to reach relative safety and rest until it was time to make a run for the mess hall. As he rounded the final corner and saw a clear shot to the cubby, the call went out, "Shots number 140 to 151 go to Nemmie-chan and Yakuza Glasses!" He rolled his eyes upward in silent disgust. He _really_ had to find her a new hobby.

End.

(A/n: Thank you to those who have sent me ideas. I gather from your replies that you like the idea of the reward. That will be in the next chapter. Yes, god help me. The madness actually continues. I hope you all are having as much fun reading this as I am writing it.)

The Hits as they stand now:

Yumi: 7

Nemu: 7

Ikkaku: 12

Random 11th rank and file: 11

Soi Fong: 34

Komamura:1

Shunsui: 10

Hitsugaya: 11

Renji: 3

Kira:2

Hissagi:3

Kiyone&Sentarou:2

Yamamoto: 13

Chojiro: 3

Oomaeda:0

Isane:5

Iba: 6

Nanao: 4

Matsumoto: 3

Total hits: 150

Total left: 132


	5. Hassle 5: final Frontier

**Birthday Hassle Chapter 5: Final Frontier**

By Kracken l. w.

Disclaimer: What am I, a parrot? For last damn time, **DON'T OWN IT!!!!!**

**(A/n: I live! Sorry about the delay; college and the hunt for a new job kind of swallowed me whole. Then my Internet went down for three days. So this is two days late. Happy belated birthday my dear psycho. Without further ado, I present the fifth, and probably last, chapter of Birthday Hassle. )**

* * *

Zaraki Kenpachi was sore, winded, and wanted nothing more than five minutes of peace and quiet so he could catch his breath without having to worry about someone _else_showing up to add to his truly amazing collection of bruises. The four foot deep cubby in the wall between his domain and that of that crazy ass motherfucker in charge of the twelfth division looked more like the gates to heaven than a tiny hole in the wall where a door had been sealed off. Ears peeled for anyone sneaking up behind him, the somewhat bedraggled captain of the fiercest division in the Gotei Thirteen peered carefully around a corner, scanning the corridor ahead for anyone who might be lying in wait. Finding the coast completely clear, he heaved a quiet sigh of relief and jogged noiselessly across the last few yards between himself and his temporary sanctuary. He swung into the cubby and promptly sagged against one wall in an attempt to take some of his weight off of his tired feet.

He had only just begun to get comfortable when all the short hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he instinctively whipped around to find himself nose to hat brim with something vaguely resembling a demonic mime. "Kurosutchi." He rumbled. Mayuri chuckled and steepled his long fingers in front of his face. "Enjoying yourself, Zaraki?" Kenpachi took a careful step back into the corridor, taking a quick glance around for anyone else as he did so. In the split second he took to check for other pursuers, the crazed scientist drew his blade. "I think I owe you, Zaraki Kenpachi… I wonder, how many hits would you say my humiliation in the relief station was worth?" Zaraki's personal opinion was that the freak might as well beat himself for that one. No one had given him the authority to question someone else's subordinate. If he felt humiliated for being reminded that he had overstepped his bounds, well, that was his problem. Zaraki told him so. Kurosutchi called him an ignorant savage without the common sense to recognize his betters. He landed three out of ten attempted hits before the Kenpachi succeeded in forcing him into the wall. He was still spouting all kinds of poisonous recriminations when his opponent smiled and said, "The rules say I can block your sword. They never said a thing 'bout _how._" The head of Seireitei's R&D department had about ten seconds to realize he was in serious trouble before Zaraki spun his back to face him, crossed his arms, and proceeded to use every ounce of weight and all of his considerable strength to try and squish Mayuri Kurosutchi back into the wall he had so inconsiderately popped out of.

* * *

While Kenpachi was getting comfortable and Mayuri's eyes were trying to pop out of his head, Ikkaku & Co. were busy coming up with yet _another_ idea to make their quarry's life miserable. "A prize? For most hits? Man, he's gonna kill us for sure." The conspirators looked at each other and smirked. "Let's do it!" Only one problem remained. "What're we gonna give 'em?"

* * *

"Psychotic… Barbarian… You're… _Crushing _me!"

"Che, obviously not enough. You're still yappin'." Was the disturbingly laconic reply. Really, the inherently curious scientist couldn't help but wonder what would it take to make this behemoth show obvious physical distress. An idea struck him and he smiled nastily despite the (still) slowly increasing pressure on his rib cage. "You know … Zaraki… All these… Years… We've been neighbors… and… I've never… once… given you a… _birthday present…_" This time it wasn't just the little hairs at his nape that stood to attention. It felt rather as if every hair on his body stood up and tried to crawl off. Zaraki didn't pause to think twice before he braced his feet and gave one massive shove backwards, somehow concentrating he reiatsu into additional physical force as he did. Mayuri gave a truly undignified squeak as his ribs gave out and he had no choice except to cave in. Literally. "Bastard…" the goop muttered as it slithered away through a crack in the wall. "Crazy ass pervo creep." Kenpachi replied.

Then he very carefully tore a strip off the bottom of his shirt, and with all the caution of a man handling a live viper, wrapped up the dropped syringe of glowing viscous, muddy purple liquid, wound up, and pitched the nasty little package out across the roofs of Seireitei and away. Threat neutralized, he settled against the rear of the cubby, propped one shoulder on the wall beside him, crossed his legs, and prepared to wait. It wouldn't be too long now until he could legally make a run for the mess hall, where he and his sake would be truly safe. (Somewhere in the 4th's admin section, as he was emptying the office trash, Hanatarou was rather abruptly hit in the neck with something sharp and turned into a small, willowy female who everyone kept mistaking for Hinamori. The next six hours were the some of the strangest in his life.)

* * *

As the sun edged closer and closer to the six o'clock mark, several people kept a close eye on it as they rushed to finish preparations for the birthday party of Seireitei's surprisingly popular giant one-eyed psycho. Unohana and Ukitake directed both their own subordinates and those of the eleventh division who were not out hunting for their Captain in setting up the mess hall. (It would not have escaped an observant onlooker that none of the tables was set up in a direct line from any possible existing entrance. This being Zaraki though, it was even odds as to whether or not he'd make his own.) Ikkaku had locked himself in his private workshop and was working furiously away at _something_. Mayuri was sulking in a tank somewhere, quivering now and again in sheer indignation. Anyone with an invite not already involved in set up was getting ready to greet the birthday boy, out stalking him hoping to get in a few final hits, or, like Hana-chan, wandering dazedly down a random alley wondering what the hell was going on.

Zaraki took a final look at the position of the sun as the six o'clock bells began to toll, took off his captain's coat and stuffed it in his shirt so people would have less to grab, drew a deep breath along with his blade, squared his shoulders, and began his final run.

* * *

From the perspective of those waiting for him, it appeared as though a large chunk of shadow spawned from a hole in the wall and took wing down the corridor. The rolling thunder of his foot steps was accompanied and underscored by the faint tinkling of bells as he moved with every last smidgen of speed he possessed through the gauntlet. He blew through Abarai and Iba like the wind from the Gates of Hell, blocking all but one of their combined five hits without breaking stride. Hitsugaya and Shunsui were introduced once again to his startling agility as he wove around them in an incomplete figure eight, wrapping Hitsugaya in Shunsui's pink overcoat as he did so. This errant bit of humor cost him a tap each from Shunsui's twin blades, but he figured it was worth the delay it cost both Captain's while they struggled to untangle themselves.

He actually slid to his knees to avoid a flying kick from Soi Fong; but took a tap from her fist to the back of his head as she flew over. Then he rolled back to his feet and was off again with very little loss of momentum. Thirty feet and closing… Kami, he could almost _taste_his sake… The tiniest prickling down his spine was all the warning he had before the corridor positively exploded in an indefinable blur not fifteen feet from the safety of the mess hall. "Wow!" The Referee squealed, "Bya-Chan's _fast!_" The clang of blades melded into one long glorious chime until Byakuya stumbled, almost went down, and recovered just in time to see his fleeing opponent launch himself off the ground, tuck into a ball, and crash straight through the nearest mess hall window. "Sixty hits in sixty seconds! Go Bya-chan! Ken-chan makes a break for it… SAFE! Ken-chan wins again. Yaaaay, Ken-chan!" He stood looking after his vanished quarry, a detached and yet somehow thoughtful look on his face.

Abarai wandered up as Kuchiki sheathed Senbon-Zakura and turned to find an… ahem, more _conventional _way into the party. "Congratulations Taicho. I think you won the contest." His Captain regarded him impassively for moment before tipping his head incrementally to one side and actually deigning to answer him. "He blocked half of them…" Renji froze. He knew better than almost anybody how fast Kuchiki Byakuya could be when he really poured on the speed; but for Zaraki Taicho to block fully half of them? Perhaps he didn't know his former commander's capabilities as well as he thought. Renji shivered. He was so caught up in his ruminations that he didn't hear the second quiet comment, "And the asshole tripped me."

* * *

The party was winding down when Zaraki found himself standing next to Unohana. One by one the Captains had approached to give him their gifts; this would be the last. From the old man he'd received the not so subtle hint of a grindstone and a sword polishing kit. Soi Fong had given him a set of brass knuckles and a lecture on precisely how she was going to kill him if he ever used her as a projectile again. Kira and Hinamori had banded together to get him a new, much sturdier Captain's coat. Kuchiki's gift, presented with his little wooden trophy made to look like an obviously beaten and battered Kenpachi ostentatiously held in his other hand, was a new set of bells and a basket of very nice hair care products. Zaraki had narrowed his eyes at the trophy, recognizing Ikkaku's work the moment he saw it. Then the rest of it registered. "Che… Figures. Thanks, Kuchiki-Hime" the faint scowl that slid over Byakuya's face before vanishing like the morning dew was a decent birthday present all on its own. He had turned away to drown his sudden desire to strangle his third seat in his sake, (Precious, precious, vilely threatened sake…) when Kommamura and Hisaagi (At Iba's suggestion.) startled and amused him by presenting him with an old pair of Tousen's blind man's shades and his signature scarf, mounted like trophies and bearing a plaque with the date of his defeat at Zaraki's hands and the name of the victor. "You broke the illusion of his belief. I would ask that you leave any further discipline to us." He shrugged, and then nodded. "S'not like he'd be much of a challenge now, anyway."

Shunsui had given him a handsome set of Sake cups and a warming pan while Hitsugaya presented him with three months supply of hair-gel. (Hah. He knew the kid's spiky hair wasn't natural…) He had gotten the additional present of some really good date wine from Matsumoto. His own division had all chipped in to completely break down, clean, reassemble and restock his own private distillery with some prime ingredients while Yachiru got him a flask with the words "#1 Ken-chan." that shocked the spirit particles out of anyone who's reiatsu didn't match its owner's. The stamp on the bottom said "U. K., patent pending." It wasn't the only gift he found himself wary of. Nemu had surprised him first by being at the party and then again by presenting him with a finely carved pipe that he regarded with great suspicion until she'd shown him the antidotes concealed in the carvings. He found it supremely ironic that Ukitake's gift was a pouch of truly superior tobacco. After receiving such odd gifts from the people he least expected it from, he wondered what hers would be. Something practical or another oddity?

Zaraki chuckled as he read the label on the brightly painted jar. "Bruise salve, my thanks, Unohana-san…" He broke off and his eyebrows shot up as she moved forward and wrapped her arms around him to give him a big birthday hug; and a little something else. He yipped in surprise and jumped three feet in the air and four backwards to land simultaneously glaring at her and trying to sooth his further abused posterior. Trying desperately not to collapse from the sheer shock, he spat "What the HELL?!" She smiled up at him sweetly, the same gentle but somehow steely expression that so terrified his battle-hardened and normally fearless troops. "Pinch for an inch Zaraki Taicho!"

Kami, but he hated human customs…

The End

* * *

(A/n: For the curious, the complete breakdown of who got how many hits will be listed in a chapter of its own... When ever I have the time to post it.)


	6. Chapter 6 :Final Count

Two days later, as Unohana pursued a fleeing and still slightly bruised Zaraki down the street, a mangled piece of paper written on in various colors of crayon blew by under foot. It read as follows:

Yumi: 7 assists*: 0 Total: 7

Nemu: 7 assists: 3 Total: 10

Ikkaku:12 assists:0 Total: 12

Random 11th rank and file: 11 assists: 4.5 Total: 15.5

Soi Fong:35 assists: 0 Total: 35

Komamura:1 assists: 2 Total: 3

Shunsui: 12 assists:0 Total: 12

Hitsugaya:11 assists: 1 Total: 12

Renji: 3 assists: 8 Total: 11

Kira:2 assists:2.5 Total: 4.5

Hissagi:3 assists: 3.5 Total: 6.5

Kiyone&Sentarou:2 assists:4 Total: 6

Byakuya: 60 assists:0 Total: 60

Yammamoto: 13 assists: 1.5 Total: 14.5

Chojiro: 3 assists:0 Total: 3

Oomaeda:0 assists:0 Total: 0

Unohanna:0 assists:0 Total: 0

Isane:5 assists:½ Total: 5.5

Hinamori: 0 assists:0 Total: 0

Iba: 6 assists: 3 Total: 9

Nanoa: 4 assists: 2.5 Total: 6.5

Matsumoto:3 assists:0 Total: 3

Mayuri:3 assists:0 Total: 3

Ukitake:0 assists:0 Total:0

Total Actual Hits: 153

Total left: 65

Winner of Most Hits: Byakuya. Sixty hits in Sixty seconds.

(*Remember, an assist was holding him down or distracting him while someone else hit him and was technically worth half a hit.)

Yamamoto would have recognized the front of it as the employee evaluation form due on his desk three months ago.

**The Final, Definite, Implacable, Unchangeable, Never Going to Write Another Word of this Endless Frickin' Story ****END.**

Zaraki: Finally. Damn Sadist.

Kracken: Like you can talk…


End file.
